Only a bit of persuasion
by Lakritzwolf
Summary: Courtesy of Fallout Kink Meme: Lyons Pride have a bet on who will be the first to find out Gallows given name. The Lone Wanderer has a more direct, sexy way to find out his name. After all, what else is she going to scream out?


I was intrigued. Lured. Let's just say I always had a thing for the unattainable and leave it at that. And he... well. He seemed as unattainable as they got.

At first I wasn't sure if he was aloof, if he was a stand-off, or if he just was a man who liked to be left in peace. Faced with these possibilities, I settled for in dubio pro reo and thought it to be the latter. A silent, taciturn man. A man who practically never showed his face to anyone. A man whose first name was known to no one around him.

He didn't talk much, and I had never been a chattering bitch. Especially now, after having lost Dad, I didn't feel like chatting with anyone about anything. I could be broody like that. And with me having grown up in the Vault with thin steel walls and cameras everywhere could appreciate better than anyone else the need and wish for privacy. I was intrigued, yes, but I had a lot on my mind.

After meeting him a few times in the mess hall I finally decided to ask him what position he had in the pride.  
>"Spec Ops", he replied. "Let's leave it at that."<br>I did. It wasn't my style to try and badger words out of people who had no intention of sharing their thoughts. But what I had, by the bucket load, was patience. It took me some time, but after a while I realised that the money and the bet meant no more than sweet fuck all to me and began to enjoy his silent company whenever I had the chance. We spent hours sitting at the same table, or at adjacent tables, sharing the silence of a morning without a single word disturbing the peace.

In the end I only had a few days in the Citadel before I made the decision to complete Dad's work despite my personal doubts about the whole affair. I didn't say goodbye to anyone and went off to find the GECK. I'm not going into any details of the whole fucking joyride that this turned into, the only thing I'll say that I was just glad to have come out of there with my skin only slightly scorched and still attached to my back.

And upon finally returning to the Citadel, after days of imprisonment and fighting and making my way back, there was no rest for the weary. Off we went to reclaim the purifier, right after I was made honorary knight of their ranks and presented with a set of brotherhood armour.  
>No way, though, that anyone would get me inside one of those freaking tin cans. I've always... well, always since I left the Vault and had to make my own way through the Wasteland, chosen stealth and speed over heavy arms and armaments. I did so again this time and had to admit that not only was the Recon armour a good protection, but it also looked pretty smart. Not that I am vain. Not a lot at least. I guess a little bit of vanity never hurt anyone.<p>

I wasn't too sure in all the chaos and fighting, but I thought one of the few knights in full power armour that were constantly in my vicinity was him. Could have been. And then, how was I to know with the fucking full helmet? It must have been the way he moved. Or something. Maybe it was imagination.

And then it all turned into a clusterfuck par excellence. And fuck, I really thought I was going to die. Strangely enough, the last thoughts before my world vanished into a white veil were that even if I probably hadn't exchanged more than a dozen words with him I regretted never having managed a look at his face, not even to speak of learning his name.

And all that I remembered well when, against my own expectations, I woke up again, finding myself in the sickbay in the Citadel instead of Valhalla, Nirvana or Eden or wherever the fuck people like me are going after kicking the bucket. I was pretty weak for the first few days after crawling out of my sickbed, and I hated it. Nonetheless did I make my way into the hall, just to make sure he was still there. What I would have done if I hadn't found him, no idea.

The hall was empty, bar one single knight in power armour. There he was, in his usual place. He inclined his head when I came in.  
>"Morning", I said and sat down at the empty table next to his after equipping myself with a coffee.<br>"Morning." He turned his head. "Good to see you about again."  
>"Elder Lyons said I've been out cold for two weeks." I rolled my still aching shoulders. "Anything happening in between?"<br>He shrugged. "The usual."

I nodded and, nursing my coffee, contemplated my next actions. Here I was, still alive against all expectations. Dad's work was finished, at least for me. The brotherhood and Li had taken over everything and had everything under control. As far as I was concerned, Project Purity was behind me now. I realised I was a bit at a loss, suddenly. Finding Dad had been my one goal, and when I had found and lost him again within a handful of days, finishing his work had been my next. Which now left me in the awkward position, for the first time in my life, of having no lead and no one to tell me what to do.

Lost in thought as I was I walked over to the counter to pour myself another coffee and completely forgot who it was I was talking to when I asked him did he want a cup, too. I inwardly cringed with embarrassment.  
>And he simply replied: "Oh, why not."<p>

Mildly mystified I poured another one and sat down opposite him when I put both cups onto the table. I stared into my cup as if what was happening was completely of no consequence whatsoever. But even without looking up I could see him move and put the helmet onto the table before his hands picked up the cup. I kept on staring at the steam emanating from my own cup for another long while.  
>First when I heard him take a sip did I finally look up and looked into the face of a dark-skinned man who seemed to be in his thirties. I had no clue what I had been expecting him to look like, but for some reason, this wasn't it. Not that this was bad, quite the contrary. I felt a tiny smile creep over my face despite myself and he... he smiled back. For a split second our eyes met.<p>

I swear I suddenly felt like a teenager again, all fluttery stomach and racing heart. I busied myself with my cup and we didn't exchange another word. He knocked back the rest of his coffee when we heard steps in the hallway, and why the fuck I did it I don't quite know, but I took both cups and walked over to the counter as he put his helmet back on. No trace remained of the silent, aloof Knight Captain having shared a humble cup of coffee with the Vault kid.

I left the hall without looking back, but had the feeling his eyes followed me out of the room.

From that moment on, I knew I was obsessed rather than intrigued. I had to know his name. I had a face, a look of his eyes, and a tiny smile, but I didn't have a name. And god damned, I had already gotten off two times while having a shower envisioning that face, those eyes and that smile. And was frustrated to hell and back because I couldn't say his name, because I fucking didn't know it.

I was fully aware I was infatuated like a silly teenage girl. Help it, I couldn't. But fuck it if I would suffer it in silence. I needed a plan. I needed his name. And I needed... something. Something that started with me knowing his name and ended with me screaming it out loud in ecstasy.

Thus having made up my mind I positioned myself at the hall one evening and followed him as stealthily as I could. And luckiest of lucky old me, he didn't sleep in a common room but, probably due to his high rank, had a cell of his own. Still hoping he hadn't seen me, was unaware of me having shadowed him, I made my way back to my own cell and thought my possible ways of action through.  
>In the end, I decided that only one would do.<p>

**øøøøø**

The very next night I made my way to his cell before the high ranking members of the Pride assembled in the hall for dinner and... well. Let's just say I let myself in and leave it at that. I locked the door behind me and sat down onto a footstool at the end of his bed, waiting and hoping that he wouldn't throw me out again. Accuse me of breaking in and trying to steal from him. Or some shit like that.

The door finally opened and the light was switched on. In he stepped, shut the door and locked it.  
>"Good evening", he said without turning around.<br>I swallowed the heart that had leapt into my mouth and forced my voice under control. "Evening."  
>He then did turn around and took off his helmet. "Can I ask what you are doing here?"<br>I produced the bottle of scotch I had brought along. "I wanted to stand you a drink, but I thought it'd be too awkward in the hall, you know."  
>He lifted one mildly inquisitive eyebrow and put his helmet on the table beside the door.<p>

I held out the bottle to him. He looked at it, then back at my face, and there it was again, that tiny smile. I tried not to watch him too blatantly as he set his rifle against the wall and took off his heavy armour, placing it meticulously on a shelf beside his bed. Only then did he turn around again to look at me.

I shrugged and offered him the bottle again. He finally reached for it and took a sip before handing it back and watching him sit down beside me on the bed I took a sip as well. He didn't look at me, however, but straight ahead. We sat there silently for a while and passed the bottle back and forth. I noticed he drank very sparingly, but so did I.

After what I estimated to be half an hour he suddenly got up and said: "You gotta go now."  
>Defeated, I slammed a door into the mental abyss of my disappointment and simply nodded as I stood up. I shoved past him and turned around again when I reached the door. He took a step forward and looked down at me. "Why are you here?"<br>He didn't avoid my eyes, and he didn't sound upset in any way. In actual fact it was the calm voice, for once unfiltered by the speakers of his helmet, which did it for me.  
>"I want to know your name."<br>He chuckled. He chuckled! I was so embarrassed I didn't know where to look any more.  
>"Amazing what some people will do for a thousand caps."<br>And there I suddenly became furious.  
>"Fuck the caps", I snarled. "I don't fucking need the caps nor do I want them. I want..." And I stopped, but somehow too late. Never a good idea to stop in the middle of a sentence. It makes it too obvious that there are things left unsaid.<br>He lifted both eyebrows this time. "You want my name."  
>"Yes." I screwed the top back onto the bottle. And then something happened that I couldn't have imagined. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Why?"<br>Sweet fuck all. It was now or never. I put the bottle onto the table, right next to his helmet and faced him again. He was eying me very thoughtfully.  
>"Because", I said, placed my hands on either side of his face and kissed him.<br>He chuckled against my lips, but didn't pull away. "Not good enough."  
>I took this as encouragement and kissed him harder. He opened his lips and finally returned the kiss, almost making me swoon in good, old-fashioned style. He broke the kiss, breathing slightly harder now, and pressed his lips against my ear. "Why."<p>

_That's the game you want, ey?,_ I thought. Very well. I pressed my body closer into his, and god, was he warm. Firm. Muscular. A finely shaped specimen of man. I dug my hips into his groin and placed a kiss on the side of his neck.  
>"I want to know your name", I whispered, opting for the plain truth. "So I can scream it out loud."<br>He chuckled again, a low, enticing sound against the skin of my neck. He placed a kiss onto my jaw line, making my hair stand on edge. "Is that so."  
>"Yes", I whispered, mildly dizzied as he wedged one of his thighs between mine and slung his arms around me while trailing kisses down my neck. He was gaining the upper hand. I couldn't let that happen.<p>

I ran my hands trough the firm, short curls on his head, down the back of his neck and his shoulders while placing a kiss on his chin and nipping the side of his neck. My hands wandered lower, over his hips and back, groping his buttocks with a firm squeeze before I snaked them into his waistline and brought them forward, trailing my fingers back and forth just below his belt. "Your name", I whispered.  
>He breathed heavily into my ear. "Give me yours", he whispered.<br>I shook my head. "Yours first."

He chuckled a little breathlessly, but the chuckle turned into a sharp intake of breath when I sneaked my hands lower, but still kept them between his cargos and his boxers. He was sporting a very impressive bulge there that I made a point of barely avoiding to touch. His breathing hitched when I moved my hands up.

"Your name."  
>He dug his hands into my hair. "Yours first."<br>"No fucking way", I gave back and dug my fingers behind the waistband of his boxers.  
>He kissed me, hard and passionate. It did make me seriously dizzy this time and I was pretty wound up myself by then, but with my fingers in his pants I still had the upper hand. Yet. I moved my hands down, feeling warm flesh, short, firm curly hair and finally, the silky skin of his dick, hard and quivering against my hands. His breathing was ragged when I dug my hands a little deeper and he gasped when I pulled them out again.<p>

I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. Listening to his ragged breathing I slipped my hands into his waistline again and pushed his pants and boxers both down an inch or two. On top of everything else I was curious, because I had never seen the dick of a black man before. I had no clue if this was meant to be something special, or different, of if it was just a matter of skin tones, but I was dying to get my hands on him. I pushed my hands firmly down again and felt his erection spring free. He inhaled sharply through his nose but kept his lips pressed together.  
>"Your name", I whispered yet again when I closed both hands around him, but he kept on breathing heavily through his nose, looking at me with lowered eyelids. I smiled and slowly sank to my knees before him, watching in delight as his eyes grew wide and wider.<p>

He had a fantastic dick. Finely shaped, almost perfectly straight and of impressive size while not as big as to be awe-inspiring or fear inducing. I shifted my grip on him and placed a soft kiss on the tip between my fingers, impressed at his self-control; he was still breathing heavily through his nose, but made no other sound.

With a firm and gentle tug I moved my hands back to expose his bell-end and took as much of him into my mouth as I could. And finally I got a sound out of him, a low, close-lipped moan that thrummed in his chest and made his whole torso vibrate. His fingers dug into my hair and because I was enjoying myself immensely as I knelt before him that night I almost felt sorry for him when, as his thighs began to tremble, I pulled myself back. He stared down at me with fine pearls of sweat beading on his temples and his eyes stayed on my face when I got up. "Your name", I said, and in his eyes, I suddenly saw defeat. He took a deep breath and exhaled in a huff of air. "It's Irving", he almost snapped. "Irving, all right?"  
>I chuckled and slung my arms around his neck. "Great. Irving. Mine's Julie. Now that we're properly introduced..." I kissed him then, and let him push me onto the bed.<p>

I whispered his name a couple of times in the next few hours, and moaned it even more. I didn't scream it out too loud, however, as the steel walls of the Citadel are not too thick, and I didn't want to spoil the bet.


End file.
